


A Dash of Liquid Luck

by ZephyrOfAllTrades



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley's first time, Brief mentions of other characters - Freeform, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Not Beta Read, Smut, but the SOFT kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23839735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephyrOfAllTrades/pseuds/ZephyrOfAllTrades
Summary: “I love you,” he whispered.“Aziraphale!” the demon looked scandalized.“What?”“You know, you should have started with that before you pounced on me.”The angel snorted. “Sorry, you were just too tempting, dear boy. Besides…” he tongued Crowley’s clavicle. The demon shuddered. “You didn’t seem to mind.”Or: The one where Anathema accidentally feeds Aziraphale cake that made him brave enough to drag Crowley into his bed.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 141
Collections: Week 10: Did you say CAKE?!





	A Dash of Liquid Luck

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever smut, please be gentle.

It was the end of September, the air crisp and a breeze tugging at yellowing leaves. A sleek black 1926 Bentley was zooming past the countryside on its way to a little town called Tadfield. The normal observer may see nothing strange with this occurrence, but the more discerning observer may question how said car was speeding at almost 200 miles an hour without hitting the potholes littering the road and careening into a ditch.

Said onlooker may associate such behavior to the reckless youths that come along to take a gander over yonder flowered meadows and rolling hills and take a whiff of “country air,” only to whine at the lack of cell reception needed to post the pictures they’ve taken, then speed on back to their city homes. Yet the driver of this particular car was neither young, enthusiastic with the visit nor particularly worried about his phone’s connectivity.

The driver is one Anthony J. Crowley, a demon. With him is the angel Aziraphale. And it was this angel who woke him up at the ungodly hour of eleven that morning for a spot of lunch before running to Tadfield and meeting up with a witch, an ex-witchfinder private, the former antichrist, his friends and other locals for a party. The witch, a Miss Anathema Device had proposed to the ex-witchfinder, Newton Pulsifer. The later said yes and everyone was so relieved he did not become catatonic that they decided tea with the neighborhood was in order.

The Bentley pulled up beside a quaint little cottage at the edge of the village with a screech of its tires and a chunk of the road sent to kingdom come. Aziraphale stumbled out huffing with a hand on his heart, looking every bit the flustered angel that he was.

“Must you drive like that _every time_ , my dear?” he frowned at the red-head sliding gracefully out from the driver’s side door.

“But you said you didn’t want to be late, angel,” Crowley smirked, looking over his passenger’s ruffled white-blonde locks and pink face. “And from the looks of it, we’ve arrived well before everyone else.”

The angel shot him a dark look and was only thwarted from pursuing his argument when the cottage’s door opened to reveal a young woman in a long dark skirt and low-heeled buckle shoes.

“Glad you guys made it,” Anathema grinned, her long, dark, curly hair fanned behind her as she rushed to greet her friends.

Crowley gave her a two fingered salute, but the angel took her hands in his and kissed her cheeks before returning her smile. “Wouldn’t dream of passing this opportunity to give you both my warmest congratulations, dear girl.”

“Speaking of the two of you, where’s the other one?” the red-head asked as they were ushered through the cottage towards the back garden where tables were set and fold-out chairs scattered about.

“Newt’s just off to get milk after dumping the last carton down his pants trying to make this new pudding recipe,” she sighed but with enough fondness to mask any irritations she wanted to convey. “You guys help yourself to the spread, the others will be here soon. I still need to take the last batch of cookies from the oven.”

The “spread” was a veritable cornucopia of sweets and munchies from nuts to candied apples. There were varieties of biscuits and doughnuts and a lovely shortcake cut into individual slices.

Aziraphale cooed over the table, eyes sparkling and a finger tapping his bottom lip as he hunts down the first of his many nibbles for the afternoon. Crowley looking over his friend – because yes, the blonde finally admitted to actually being friends with him the afternoon after tricking their respective offices and being freed from responsibilities – huffed in amusement. They had the whole world to enjoy now. And for the demon, his enjoyment was watching his angel partake in food and share the occasional, now becoming regular, bottle of wine.

The red-head took the chair across from his companion and settled into it. The angel wiggled as he was wont to do when faced with a plate-full of sweets. Crowley, stifled his gasp as a morsel passed the blonde’s lips and he moaned. He had yet grown accustomed to the angel’s eating habits even after thousands of years of acquaintanceship. Although he was able to perfect his nonchalant posture and poker face lest it alert his friend on the effect the moans had on him.

Aziraphale had, contrary to his friend’s beliefs, actually knew what he was doing. It started with the oysters in Petronius’ restaurant when he let slip a groan of approval. The demon had stilled in front of him and he was still able to see his snake-eyes blown wide. He was squirming by the end of dinner and it gave the angel great satisfaction to see his ever-confident adversary stumble with his words and his walk. He’s been putting on a show for him ever since. He was waiting for him to comment on it and have them open a discussion that would have hopefully resulted in a kiss or kisses, especially now that they were free agents and didn’t need to worry about being on opposite sides anymore. The moment hasn’t arrived yet, but they have time for that. He’s fine with being friends… for now. Besides, he did always enjoy seeing the Serpent of Eden wiggle.

He saw a slight dusting of pink on the demon’s cheeks and he smirked.

“Enjoying yourself, angel?” Crowley raised an eyebrow at the grin. He looked more like a bastard when he did that and it was one of his favorite faces on the angel.

“Undoubtedly, dear boy,” he beamed. “This cake is just divine!”

“Did someone say cake?” they heard Anathema call out. She had just come back out from the cottage with a tea pot and cups on a tray and laid it on the table between them before sitting down as well.

“Yes, my dear, that would be me,” answered Aziraphale as he scraping off the last of the slice from his plate. “And it was scrumptious.”

“Hmmm… That’s odd. I didn’t make cake.” Anathema frowned, watching the blonde bite down on his fork.

“Nuh-uh. I don’t like that face,” scowled the demon. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t remember baking, or buying that,” she clarified. “And I’m sure Newt hadn’t done the same.”

“But there are slices over there, lined up like ducklings on water!”

“Right, I’ll take a look,” she walked over to the table and both immortal beings heard her gasp, then giggle.

The giggling, at least, lessened Aziraphale’s fears over what he had eaten and he settled back down in his chair. The witch returned to their table trying to smother back her laughter.

“I take it you know where the cake came from now?” he smiled. The girl’s obvious mirth was contagious.

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “I made it a few days ago but hadn’t planned on putting it out here, though. Newt must have thought anything from the pantry was on offer.”

“Yeah, but what’s so special about this cake?” Crowley frowned. “And I know there’s something wrong with it. I can sense mischief a mile away. And it’s coming off you in waves.”

“It’s nothing serious,” she started. “It was just laced with a potion is all.”

Demon and angel gaped at her and she quickly explained the situation.

“It’s harmless, I swear! Newt and I had once had a long discussion on what was truth and what was fiction when it came to witchcraft. Unfortunately, his basis was the Harry Potter books,” she shrugged. “And since I didn’t have a wand, he started questioning me with potions knowledge. Most of those were bullshit of course. But then we started experimenting. Well, I did anyway. And I took a liking to Felix Felicis.”

“The Luck Potion?” Crowley asked, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline. He had admitted to Aziraphale once that he had finished the series, curious when he heard of Nagini’s involvement.

Anathema snorted. “Don’t look too impressed,” she laughed. “I didn’t really get it right. My mix was more a confidence booster than the whole ‘universe-contriving-to-bend-reality-to-give-you-what-you-want’ kind of thing.”

Crowley shrugged. “Alright, but why’d you put it in the cake?”

“Well…” she said slowly. “You have met my fiancé, right?”

The demon barked a laugh. “Good one,” he grinned. “That boy’s too much a mess sometimes. He definitely needs a little luck on his side.”

“Actually, he tried stand-up comedy at the pub the other night,” she sighed. “I thought I was going to have to tow a stiff plank of a man home so I baked him something for his nerves. Good a time as any to see if it worked. The effects came in around 30 minutes after he ate a slice. And the effect built up as the night wore on and stayed for the next 24 hours. I knew it wore off when he bumped his big two twice while walking from the front door to the gate.”

“So, it’s like being recklessly drunk but, er, sober?” Crowley knit his brows.

“You could say that, and it depends on how much the person wanted to do the things they had very little courage to do.”

The demon looked over at Aziraphale. “You’ve always known how to get what you want,” the sentence earned him a scoff but nothing more. “And you’ve never been really reckless when drunk, so I guess you’re safe, angel.”

The blonde laughed. “I guess so,” his eyes lit up. “Anathema, my dear, are you perhaps going to let your other guests take a slice and have them run amok during your party?” the girl looked down sheepishly but nodded.

“Oh! That would be entertaining,” the angel laughed, getting a questioning look from Crowley. He rolled his eyes at him. “I’m technically not an angel anymore, well, according to Heaven that is, so I’m allowed a prank or two, I should think.”

All three laughed at that.

The party came off swimmingly with very little chaos. They of course had to make sure the Them did not eat the cake, worried that their dose of trouble-making would double. Crowley was able to distract them well enough by playing their games and Aziraphale feed them the authorized sweets.

The demon’s gaze had wandered towards his friend a number of times to spot any change in character. The potion was successful, given the boisterousness of some of the guests and their embarrassing dance moves, and he was curious at what a ‘confident’ Aziraphale looked like. He found no real change except perhaps for a more relaxed posturing, one he had trouble with when meeting new people. His glances turned more wistful than calculating as the day wore on, every one safely hidden behind his trustworthy sunglasses. All in all, he enjoyed the day and thought nothing more of it as they finally said their goodbyes and raced back to London.

He didn’t notice the angel’s silence as he recounted the deeds of his day with the Them, nor did he notice his companion’s dark looks lingering on his face and body.

* * *

“Care to join me for a bottle or two, my dear?” Aziraphale voiced as they parked in front of his bookshop in Soho.

“Lead the way, angel,” Crowley replied. He was never known to decline the angel’s offers yet, save for when their work schedules interfered. And that obstacle taken off the equation, they’ve taken advantage of it to spend as much time as possible.

Only this night would be ineffably different than the rest.

It started with the door. It did nothing a door would not normally do. In fact, it had dutifully locked itself tight as Crowley stepped in after the blonde. Aziraphale stopped just a few steps from the entrance then turned to face the demon who squeaked at suddenly being crowded by a bright-eyed angel. It only took a few more steps until the demon’s back was flushed against the wood.

Aziraphale’s right hand slammed against the panel beside Crowley’s head, the left casually hooked his pocket. “Hello there,” Aziraphale leaned closer to leer at the demon, voice low and breathy.

Crowley gulped, mouth dry and gaping like a fish. The angel snorted at his reaction but instead of moving away and announcing it was a joke, he pulled his hand out from his pocket to hold pin red-head’s chin. The touch sent a shiver through his spine, heart hammering, mouth slackened and legs quivering like jelly. “A-Azih… ah,” the words he desperately wanted to say got lost as he felt the angel’s leg moving to rest in between his and dangerously close to his raging hard-on.

“My, don’t you look delectable,” Aziraphale breathed out. He had his thumb caressing the demon’s quivering lower lip. He brought his right hand down to wrap around Crowley’s slim waist. It earned him a high keening voice from the red-head as their bodies were flushed together. He moaned as he felt Crowley’s erection straining against his tight jeans. He ground his hips seeking friction and relishing at the sight of his friend’s head tilting back, mouth open wide and panting. He watched his neck curve and lowered his mouth to the inviting stretch of skin. The demon practically screamed out his name. It sounded wrecked and he tightened his hold on his waist, his other hand cradling the red-head’s nape to keep it there. He ran his tongue up from the to his lower jaw, taking gentle nips along the way.

The demon felt fire race through his entire body. He wasn’t in control of his mental faculties anymore except for the repetitive, ‘ _Fuck. Aziraphale. Soft. More._ ’ When he felt the angel’s wet mouth on his jawline, he couldn’t stop himself from bucking into Aziraphale’s front. It stilled the angel’s tongue and he pulled back. Crowley whined at the loss and cursed himself at being too fast and ruining what would have been the most intense moment they had yet. But the angel kept his tight hold on him and he was finally able to look back at his friend.

“Do you want this. Crowley?” the angel asked as he lowered the arm grasping the demon’s waist to squeeze his buttocks.

“Yes!” the red-head gasped. “Yes, I want it you idiot!” He punctuated his response by rubbing himself obscenely against the angel’s thigh.

“Hmmm…. Eager, my dear?” Crowley could swear he didn’t know his angel’s voice could dip that low. It almost came out as a growl. A dangerous purr that promised oh so many things.

“I- Azira- ah! Please! I- “ Crowley’s tongue had abandoned its post and was hanging out his mouth trying to bring as much oxygen to his overheating body. Something was building up in his stomach, a crawling roll of a storm readying to make his burst in his pant. His gyrating hips became frantic. He heard a chuckle close to his ear. With a snap he found himself on a soft bed in his friend’s bedroom above the bookshop. Aziraphale’s weight pressed ineffably wonderful from above him. He opened his eyes to lock with the angel’s.

It was darker and the gaze was heavy with desire. He felt like diving into its depths and never resurfacing. He’ll could easily well come from watching those eyes alone. He blinked and the eyes were gone. But he had no moment to feel the loss as warm hand raked his side and his chest. He felt his clothes dissolve where the questing palms roamed. In a heartbeat he found himself naked, cock fully hard and aching. He could see pre-cum leaking from the tip.

The angel groaned at the sight. Crowley’s lanky body was making his mouth water. He lowered his lips to the demon’s. The kiss was soft and tender. He deepened it, letting his tongue slide against his lower lip. Crowley opened up to him gladly. Their tongues danced, as they tasted each other. And for a connoisseur such as he, he found nothing to compare to the demon’s mouth. He could never have imagined that the day would come where he was allowed to touch and not just look at his companion. He knew he would have stayed a good three feet away from his friend to preserve their current relationship but when he saw the red-head’s profile as they drove back to London, he knew he _needed_ to feel his skin against his own. He felt Anathema’s potion kickstart as it finally found a goal wrap its hands around. And speaking of wrapped hands…

He took the demon’s swollen dick in hand and pumped it slowly, making the red-head arc his back. “Is this alright, darling?” he whispered in Crowley’s ear, nibbling the lobe.

“You’ll bloody discorporate me!” he cried in between wheezing intakes of breath and bucking hips.

“Is that so?” the angle smiled into his shoulder. He was lapping and sucking at his skin paying no particular mind to direction. Presently, he felt Crowley’s hand grip his hair. The tugging sensation had lightning shooting down towards his still clothed erection.

“Angel, angel… please….” Crowley whined, clearly not knowing what he was asking for.

“What is it you want, my sweet?” the angel asked, face inches from a very pert nipple. He didn’t wait for Crowley to give his answer as he flicked his tongue over it. And the moan that spilled from the demon’s throat was more riveting than any music he ever heard played in the millennia he’d been on Earth. “You sound marvelous, Crowley. I want to hear more, dearest,” he gasped out before returning his mouth to suck on the demon’s nipple.

“Ngk, ugh…. Aziraphale, wait!” he cried. The angel’s hands stilled then the touch disappeared altogether. The warm and wet mouth lifted as well. Only a string of saliva trailing from the blonde’s parted lips to his chest indicated its previous occupation. “Guh, sorry let me catch my breath,” he puffed.

“Too fast, my dear?” Aziraphale asked, still hovering over him. He guffawed.

“ _Too fast_? Really?” he was rewarded with a sheepish smile. And he melted straight away. He pulled the angel closer to bring his head on his chest. He trembled at the rough slide of cloth on skin and nuzzled the angel’s hair. “You can never be too fast for me, Aziraphale,” he whispered.

“Then what’s the hold up, then?” the impatience was palpable in the angel’s tone.

He laughed at his huffing angel, running his hands on his back to appease him. “I was just overwhelmed, ‘s all. I’ve been dreaming about this for so long and it all came crashing down on me,” he sighed into the dark.

“Hmmm… shall we do this at a later date, then?” the blonde asked, nuzzling the spattering of red curls on his chest. “Although, to be honest with you, I might not be able to perform as well as I might have today had it not been for Anathema’s potion,” he smiled up at him. “After asking you to slow down for me, I know I ought to do the same for you.” He had taken Crowley’s hand as they laid together, tracing circles at its back. It was grounding the same way it did on the bus ride the night of the failed Apocalypse, although this time, the intimacy was a hundred times greater than that.

“You’d actually want to do this with me again?” there was a hopeful lilt to the question and Aziraphale looked up to find a hint of uncertainty in the golden orbs before him.

“Of course, I would my dear,” he reassured. “Anytime you’re ready.” He felt the demon relax further. “I love you,” he whispered.

“Aziraphale!” the demon looked scandalized.

“What?”

“You know, you should have started with that before you pounced on me.”

The angel snorted. “Sorry, you were just too tempting, dear boy. Besides…” he tongued Crowley’s clavicle. The demon shuddered. “You didn’t seem to mind.” He smirked.

The red-head huffed, “Fair point, but I was shocked. Never thought you’d be experienced in all this.” Crowley frowned. Perhaps the angel had taken other lovers to bed, he had heard that Wilde had been a companion of his while he slept the 19th century away.

“Oh, darling no!” the blonde tittered. “You should know that any knowledge I have came from written words rather than practice.”

“So, I’m – “

“Yes,” the angel admitted, giving the demon another peck on the lips. “And the only one I will ever do this with,” he whispered.

Crowley fisted his lover’s sleeves and tried to calm his stuttering breath. The thought of being the angel’s first was giving him a heady mix of possessiveness, desire and love. He had been at the forefront of temptations but he directed those at humans. He’s never taken lovers as well, unable to feel what they felt. He wondered if was what he was experiencing at the moment with Aziraphale. A pull so strong that he felt like he was falling again, unable to stop his descent but all too willing to reach his destination. His cock was coming alive once more, and he suddenly couldn’t fathom why he had stopped Aziraphale’s advances.

“Uhm… angel?” The blonde gave him and encouraging hum. “Can we get back to what we were doing before my stupid mouth ruined it all?” he asked, the angel’s eyebrows taking flight towards his hairline. “Don’t make me say I need you,” he grumbled, tugging to free his lover’s shirt from his pants. “Demon’s don’t beg, just… you take your soddy clothes off, too.” He huffed, and began pulling at Aziraphale’s waistcoat from the back.

The angel laughed. “Of course, darling.” And with a snap, they were suddenly skin to skin. If he had felt a burn before, it was nothing compared to that moment when the contact felt like being chucked into a furnace, but he was welcoming the heat gladly. He thrust against Crowley’s length and moaned as it stiffened from its half-hard state. He let his hands grab and grip every possible area of skin that was within reach.

Crowley was wheezing along with him. His hands alternating between the sheets, Aziraphale’s hair, his forearms and his back. When he felt his cock rise back to full mast, he squirmed, trying to increase the friction between them.

“Crowleeey,” Aziraphale keened. “You feel, oh so good, my darling,” he gasped, letting his hips thrust faster. His prick sliding along beside the other’s. “My, - my dear, can I?” he stilled his movements as he tried to voice out his needs.

“Yes, angel,” the demon breathed out. His hands were full of the angel’s softness. He was gripping tight, the image of him leaving bruises on the milky skin made him desperate for more contact. “Whatever it is you want to do, do it.”

“Really, darling, you haven’t even heard what I was asking for yet,” he chuckled, stealing a long sensuous kiss before.

“Ngk. How, in bloody heaven can you still talk so calm, right now?” he uttered in between moans.

“The cake helped,” he laughed, as he slid his hands over Crowley’s sides and stilling his hips. “I only wanted to ask if I can I fuck you, my love?” his panted out.

The demon hissed. He felt his cock throb at the angel’s cursing. “I almost came, fuck,” he groaned. “But yes,” he said after a few grounding breaths. “Take me,” he said, letting his eyes catch the angel’s. He took a sharp intake of breath as he found those eyes brimming with affection. “Take me,” he repeated.

It sounded like a plea and Aziraphale crowed internally. He kissed his lover, pouring his adoration out his lips to his, then kneeled in between long, lithe legs. He would have loved to trail kisses from his foot to the base of his cock, but he saw how close Crowley was to his release. He wasn’t far off as well. With a miracle, he slicked his hand and teased the demon’s opening. When he pushed his fingers in, it was welcomed readily. Soon he had two, then three thrusting into Crowley’s hot, tight depths. The demon was moaning like crazy and the sounds he made was sending Aziraphale’s lust into a frenzy. Finally, he pulled his fingers out. He couldn’t wait anymore.

“Here I go, dearest,” he breathed. He lined his cockhead to Crowley’s hole and pushed in slowly. He cried as the first few inches breached the tight ring of muscles. They were both breathless as he was fully sheathed, the demon’s hands tight on his thighs.

“Move, please,” the red-head begged.

The angel complied. He started slow and it made his blood sing. His heart drummed wildly, a very human reaction but not unwelcome, as he felt the same thrum from the demon’s own chest. He felt Crowley’s legs wrap around his middle and he felt himself pulled in deeper. They cried in ecstasy together. He picked up the pace and at one point he found the bundle of nerves that made the demon cry see nebulae.

“There!” he yelled. “Again! Do it again.” And the angel did, thrust after thrust. Crowley was babbling mindlessly and he could feel the coiling heat in his lower gut. He was nearing his orgasm and despite the demon’s mewling, he heard Aziraphale’s panting growing more ragged. They were both at the precipice waiting for that last push.

“Come for me, darling. Let it go,” the angel purred, pounding him relentlessly into the mattress. The bed creaked but neither could hear it. Crowley came shouting the blonde’s name over and over. Aziraphale saw sparks, his seed spurting into Crowley. He could feel it coating his cock as he pulled out. He noticed a stream of cum paint the demon’s chest – sure sign of his own blissful release. He fell beside him, both gasping, body deliriously sluggish from all the exercise.

The angel heard a soft snap and he found himself clean and under the blankets. He shuffled to pillow his head on Crowley’s head again. They didn’t talk, treasuring the moment of peace and contentment around them

“Aziraphale?” Crowley whispered after what felt like minutes. The angel was humming as he examined his body, feeling for the marks his lover left behind. “I never got to tell you properly, but you should know that I love you, too.”

The angel tightened his hold on the demon and pulled him closer to catch his waiting mouth. The kiss was gentle and oh so loving. He didn’t need to say the words, because Crowley felt them in that kiss, permeating his skin, his bones and every other part of his body, mind and soul.

They cuddled together and the warmth of Aziraphale’s bed was dragging them both into to the world of sleep. The demon felt safe, he knew he’d wake up to angel’s face in the morning and he felt like crying to the heavens that he was finally where he was supposed to be.

His last waking thought was asking Anathema for her shortcake recipe.

**Author's Note:**

> Well... that was a thing. I honestly don't know if I did that right. Ha!
> 
> Shout out in the comments if I at least made you blush, even from secondhand embarrassment at my excuse for a fic, XD


End file.
